Drunk Enough to Feel Better
by Temperance-is -a -virtue
Summary: Ange, Bren and Cam play a drinking game, speak incoherently and generally wallow in self-pity. One Shot.


1

**Disclaimer:** [pats me down] Have you been possession of this story the entire time?

**Me:** Uh, since I wrote it last night.

**Disclaimer:** [holds up the characters] Do these belong to you?

**Me:** [bites lip] No. They belong to Hart Hanson and the folks at FOX. They said I could borrow them.

**Disclaimer:** Alright. You can go through.

**Me:** Thanks. Whew! I'm glad he didn't find out what I'm doing with them!

**This my first slash fic. Please be nice I'm nervous already. And I apologize for the way they're speaking. They **_**are**_** drunk after all. Also, I wrote this at three o'clock in the morning, so it may sound it was written by someone who was half asleep and fed up, which I was.**

It had been totally unplanned. Well, if you listened to Angela, you would be informed that these things usually were. And as both Cam and Brennan listened to her, they both knew of the unplanned nature that things like this had.

They had been feeling low. More like depressed, actually. It had not been a good month for any of them. Cam lost her boyfriend, Angela's Angelator had crashed and Brennan had come so close to winning a coveted award, only to have it wrenched from her grasp by an old stuffy neurologist. Someone, they were no longer sure who, had decided that they should play a drinking game. The rules were simple; they poured a small glass of liquor (vodka and rum were currently on the table) and they would all tell a story. Whoever had the most pitiful story won the drink that round. By the time they had run out of rum and the vodka bottle was halved, they were all drunk enough to feel better.

"So..." Brennan sloshed the vodka into the glass, spilling some on Angela's dining room table, "Who wants to go first next?"

Angela put up her hand, "I had this boy in high school that I used to have a crush on. He told me to meet him behind the school once and I went and had sex with him. Then I was naive enough to think I mattered after that. Turns out he had heard I liked him, and he only wanted a quick fuck. They teased me for a whole month when it came out."

"I can better that," said Cam, grabbing a handful of M&M's from a bowl on the didng room table, "My high school boyfriend was dating all my friends behind all our backs. Don't ask me how Eaton did it, but he did. I only found out about the others when he dumped me. I was bitter, so I went around telling all my friends that he was dating all of them. What did they say? They didn't care. Some already even knew!"

"My turn," Brennan held the vodka bottle to her chest, "Boys never acknowledged my presence in high school. They thought I was a nerd, and I guess I maybe was. Once I went into the boy's locker room by mistake. The captain of the baseball team tried to back me into the lockers to...I don't know what he was going to do, but I had an inclination that it would involve violating my person sexually. I broke his arm, and ran away."

"What?" said Cam.

"Woooa, Bren. Sorry, but the last part just made it the best story," Angela took the glass from Brennan, "Cam?"

"No contest. Drink it," said Cam, implying that Angela's story was superior. Angela tipped the glass to her mouth and poured the liquid in, gulping fast.

"Yeah," she said hoarsely.

"Next," said Cam. Angela handed the glass back to Brennan to refill. She sloshe the liquid in again, her effort not to spill futile, "Me first. I thought by not sailing with Sully to the Caribbean, mine and Booth's relationship would be altered and become more intimate. I was very wrong."

"You know Seeley wants to get in your pants more than your pockets do," Cam told her. She was currently knocking the mouth of the bottle of rum on her tongue, "He just has too much integrity. He needs to just throw caution to the wind and your panties in the air."

"Are you alright?" Angela giggled.

"Nope," Cam smiled with the bottle in her mouth.

"Okay, my turn," Angela tried to hide her giggle, but it didn't work, "Hodgins is the best I ever had."

"Disqualified!" Brennan shouted way too loudly, "That's not sad! Hell, I could use a little Hodgins right now!"

"There's nothing little about him," Angela giggled.

"He is a bit short," said Cam, not getting Angela's meaning, "Anyway, my turn. I'm unloveable."

"What the heck does that mean?" Brennan asked, sipping the coveted prize, even though she wasn't supposed to.

"All the guys I've been with. I've noticed, they all don't really care about me. They just come and go, like..."

"Leaves in the wind?" Angela supplied, picking out red M&M's from the bowl.

"No. Okay, well, maybe. They don't stay. It's like I chase them away. Nobody loves me."

"Oh, sweetie, _we_ love you!" Angela shouted.

"And everybody at the Jeffersonian loves you...now." Brennan knocked back the glass of vodka and poured another.

"But...guys don't. Men don't. They leave. Why did he have to leave?" the last word ended in a sob and a tear slid down her face.

"Don't cry," Angela soothed, "He's a jerk."

"BRENT WAS NOT A JERK!" Cam wailed.

"He left you," Brennan told her.

"Shhh!" Not helping!" Angela hissed, getting up to come closer to Cam, "It's okay, Cammy. You're still the greatest pathologist ever."

"Did Dr. Horton die?" Cam asked.

"Who?" Angela wiped Cam's tears with a grin on her face.

"Dr. Horton from Surrey, England is the foremost expert on patholo..."

She didn't get to finish, as Angela placed her lips over her, giving her a kiss that was so loud it woke Brennan up from a half sleep.

"Hey," she asked them, "What are you guys doing?"

They didn't answer her. They were a bit busy, really.

"Cam? Angela? Are you guys kissing?" she asked, even though the answer was staring her in the face.

Angela pulled her lips from Cam's and gave Brennan a annoyed look, "No. She almost drowned and I'm giving her CPR."

"No you weren't!" Brennan shouted, "You were ki..."

Angela covered her best friend's mouth, "No need to make the whole damn apartment building know!"

"I feel weird," said Cam.

"You're not supposed to just go around kissing people, Angela! It's in poor taste, and may lead to legal problems."

"That made no sense. You're really drunk, aren't you?" Angela commented.

"Well, how come you kissed her and you never kissed me," Brennan asked, "I'm supposed to be your best friend!"

Angela rolled her eyes, "Do you want me to kiss you, Bren?"

Brennan pouted in her unsure way, "Well...you know. If you want to."

"For future reference, mixed signals are uncool," said Angela.

"Okay. I think as an anthropologist, I must strive to participate as much as I can in foreign cultures," she leaned in.

Angela bit her best friend's bottom lip gently, using her tongue to rub over it. She sucked a little, till she heard Brennan gasp. Gently, she slid her tongue into her best friend's mouth.

Angela sighed when she drew back, "How was that doctor?"

Brennan was blushing, "Even more awkward than I thought it would be."

"Oh yeah?" Angela leaned in and kissed Brennan roughly, sliding a palm off her best friend's shoulder and onto her breast, using her thumb and forefinger to give her left nipple a tiny squeeze. Brennan bucked a little in her chair.

"Hey, if you two wanna stop ignoring me, you can start anytime!" Cam shouted.

They looked at her.

"What?" Angela asked.

"You two are enjoying your 'besties' time over there, but I'm kinda bored watching you. Can we get back to the game?" Cam put her hand on her chin.

Angela took one leg of the chair Brennan was sitting in and dragged it along the tiled floor, so it was right next to Cam's. Angela sat on their knees and smiled at them.

"You two try it," she coaxed.

Bren looked at Cam and Cam looked back. Then they both looked at Angela.

"No." they said in unison.

"Come on. Then we'll all be even, "Angela smiled.

"No," they said again, shaking their heads this time.

"Okay," Angela grabbed the vodka bottle and fake-dropped it.

They both screamed.

"The vodka!" said Brennan.

"Your carpet!" said Cam.

Whoops. Angela hadn't remembered the carpet.

"Do it or I'll drop it," she tried to act serious but the looks on their faces made her want to laugh. Now that she remembered the carpet, she wouldn't drop vodka on it. But they totally fell for it.

"Okay," said Brennan.

"Tongues and everything," Angela warned.

They met half way, and though it had been forced upon them, they threw themselves into it. They nipped and sucked and made Angela cheer at one point.

When they puled back, both looked mortified, needless to say embarrassed.

"Goody," Angela sprang off their laps, helping them up, "Let's go find you guys something to sleep in."

As they followed her, the pieces in Angela's brain clicked into place and she stopped, looking at the floor.

"It's tiled!" she shouted.

**Now leave a review or I drop a bottle of vodka on your carpeted tile floor. Or not.**


End file.
